


There’s a Time and a Place for Everything

by kolibris



Category: Persona 4, Persona 5, Persona Q2: New Cinema Labyrinth
Genre: Accidental Seduction, Alternate Canon, Developing Relationship, First Time, Kink Meme, M/M, Size Kink, Team Dynamics, Time Shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:00:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22872124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kolibris/pseuds/kolibris
Summary: In a movie theater outside the boundaries of time and space, an inexplicable love story occurs.
Relationships: Sakamoto Ryuji/Tatsumi Kanji
Comments: 17
Kudos: 94
Collections: Persona Kink Meme





	There’s a Time and a Place for Everything

**Author's Note:**

> For [this kinkmeme request](https://personakinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/993.html?thread=1148129#cmt1148129):
> 
>  _That new PQ2 trailer for Kanji with him getting all blushy around Ryuji made me realize that I really want the punks to fuck so please, I’m begging you, make the punks fuck_
> 
> _Doesn’t necessarily need to be PQ2-centric but it’d probably be easier to just dump them in a movie theater than come up with some bullshit explanation for how they meet._
> 
> _Anyway what I really want to see is Kanji crushing on Ryuji, hard, and his awkwardness about it is really damn cute and gets Ryuji all worked up over this super adorable guy and Kanji nets himself a boyfriend without really actually trying to do so, culminating in a very enjoyable first time for both of them._
> 
> _Bonus points:_   
>  _-marathon sex_   
>  _-both of them bottom at some point_   
>  _-Kanji calling Ryuji ‘Sakamoto-senpai’ (remember how he wanted someone to call him that, in canon? Let it actually happen)_   
>  _-ryuji begs one of the other phantom thieves for help about kanji because he’s never had a crush on a boy before and doesn’t know what to do_
> 
> Bippity boppity boo, the punks shall fuck for you ♫
> 
> (’Alternate Canon’ tag because I wrote this before PQ2’s English release and pulled just about everything out of my ass. No real spoilers for the game here; if you watched the PQ2 trailers or played PQ1, nothing here should be a surprise. Enjoy!)

It’s impossible to miss him. 

He’s tall, taller than Yusuke, taller than anybody, and he stands broad like a wall of meat behind all of his friends. And he looks mean. He looks ready to kick you out of the club and then hold you down while his boss cuts off both of your pinkies. He’s the biggest, scariest bastard in the entire room and, for some reason, he’s been looking at Ryuji ever since everyone piled into the cinema lobby together.

And Ryuji means _everyone_. 

He’s not going to pretend he knows how many of them they make altogether, just that introductions take about a freaking eternity because there are way, way too many people here. He’s already forgotten everybody’s names before they’re even halfway through. Not like he was so great at details to begin with, but who can seriously expect him to keep all of this straight in his brain? And besides, he can’t focus with that guy still staring at him—why? It’s kinda throwing him off his game here.

Speaking of Yusuke, even he’s picked up on it. There's his head, dipped down next to Ryuji’s for a quick whisper. “Ryuji, you’re attracting a lot of attention already. Consider being a little less conspicuous.”

“Literally just standing here, bro,” Ryuji whispers back.

Whatever – doesn’t matter. There’s other, far more important discussions happening right now: the wormhole in Mementos; the movie theater they’ve become trapped in; the sudden explosion of Persona users in the world, including a goddamn dog. It’s crazy, crazier than anything Ryuji could have ever come up with, and no one knows how they even ended up here, let alone how to get out. For the time being, it looks like they're stuck. 

“Hey! Excuse me!” someone yells over a dozen louder voices. “We need to make a plan already, we need to—oh my god, is anybody listening?”

Futaba thrusts a finger up. “I dare someone to touch the freaky costume!”

“Yeah, I double-bear-dare you!” 

“IT TALKS!!!”

“You guys, a freaking _dog!_ ”

So their brainstorming session crashes and burns. But there’s an energy here – something infectious, _exciting_ , gelling three groups of complete strangers together smoothly like ridiculous social lubricant and rolling them straight into chatty bullshit instead. Even Ryuji can’t help getting roped into it. He hasn’t talked so easily like this to so many people in, well, ever. 

It’s only a matter of time before he’s drifted through the crowd and found himself standing behind _him_.

Ryuji barely has to look to know that he’s there. How could he not? The guy’s line of sight has basically bored a hole in the back of his damn head. And his friends don’t even care. Those two tiny girls he’s huddled up with are more than happy to let his creeper vision go unchecked, apparently. Normally Ryuji wouldn’t let shit like this slide, but when he racks his brain, he can’t even come up with a name to call him out. Oh well. Probably not worth it. He’s from some high school in the middle of Bumfuck – can’t remember the name of that either – so it’s no wonder he doesn’t have a good handle on the whole ‘inappropriate staring’ thing. In the interest of making a good impression for once, Ryuji is gonna just ignore it.

A dainty _tap-tap_ on his back is what finally turns him around. It’s the pretty girl who looks like she could be Risette’s little sister. “Hi! My friend wants to talk to you.”

Ryuji’s eyes grow wide with hope— “What? Whoa, really?” —then wider still when he realizes that said friend is looming over them both, looking just as dumbstruck.

“Ah, come on!” he says. “Stop startin’ shit!”

“Don’t be embarrassed,” she teases, with a sway of her shoulders. “Just talk for a little bit, okay?”

“You sure that’s the right friend?” Ryuji tries.

“Mm-hmm!” She reaches up high and pats her unfortunately, tragically right friend on the arm. “Have fun!”

“You can’t just leave me here! Hey!” 

But he sure doesn’t try very hard to leave, standing there and helplessly watching the girl walk away like she’d glued him to the spot. There’s no escape for Ryuji either, because the group he was with is gone, vanished, moved on to less intimidating pastures and abandoning him to his fate. There’s a little _too_ much space around them, actually, like the punks are being quarantined to play nice with each other. Well, maybe that’s what this guy wants. He keeps looking at Ryuji out of the corners of his eyes expectantly, almost hopefully, like he’s just waiting for first contact.

Ryuji sighs. Nothing to gain by leaving him out. 

“Hey, what’d you say your name was again?”

“Kanji! Kanji, uh, Tatsumi. That’s my name.”

“Cool, man. I’m Ryuji Sakamoto.” 

He holds his hand out for the usual, a quick one-two slap and bump. Instead, Kanji grabs it up in his giant bear paw, squeezing him tight, and shakes so hard Ryuji feels it in the socket of his shoulder. “Nice to meet you, Sakamoto-senpai!”

“Whoa…” Did he hear that right? When Kanji loosens his grip enough, Ryuji pulls his hand back. His fingers actually throb a little bit. “Just Ryuji is fine, man.”

“No problem, Ryuji-senpai!” Kanji is fist-pumping. His _voice_ is fist-pumping. “I’ll call you whatever you want!”

“No, that’s… not what I meant? What’s with the ‘senpai’?”

“You know…” Kanji motions back and forth between them, waving his hands at Ryuji’s hair, his clothes, his shithead attitude to life in general. “I never met anyone who looks like me before. And you look better than I do and I’m a year under you so I’ve gotta show my respect, y’know? And Sensei's just… yeah, not doin' that shit. Unless that sounds cooler, like a master n’ pupil… uhh, but master’s kinda…” Then he turns on a dime, just like that, scrunching his mug up into a scowl at Ryuji’s bewilderment. “Ah, w-whatever! Damnit, just forget about it—”

“Nah!” Ryuji cuts in. “Nah, you know what? It’s okay. Call me Senpai.”

“—uh. Wait… you serious?”

“Yeah, I’m serious.”

“It ain’t… weird?”

Ryuji holds his arms out wide. “You seen where we are? This whole thing is freakin’ weird! Who cares.”

“O-Okay! You better not regret it, ‘cause there ain’t no takebacks!” Kanji hooks his thumbs onto his pants pockets and straightens up tall, almost would be imposing if it wasn’t for the little shuffle of his leg. “…Ryuji-senpai.”

Ryuji puffs up a bit because when was the last time he heard _that_ come out of somebody’s mouth? Maybe he just has rock-bottom expectations by now, but hearing a junior show him the bare minimum of respect feels pretty damn good. This guy just went up ten notches in Ryuji’s book.

And maybe his respect isn’t so bad to have. Kanji definitely looks like he knows a thing or two about not giving a fuck. Hair all slicked back, metal shining through his ears and nose, jacket slung around his shoulders with a perfect delinquent nonchalance that says, ‘yeah, I’ll beat up your grandma, what of it?’. Probably scares the crap out of his heehaw neighbors every day of his life. If Ryuji walks down the right street back home he’ll see ten Kanjis in two minutes, but here Kanji is with the balls to do it all by himself, and he thinks _Ryuji_ is the cool one? Damn.

“Yeah,” Ryuji says, “Senpai is gonna be just fine.”

There’s another tap on Ryuji’s back that suddenly turns into a hundred more, needling him right between his shoulder blades in the most fucking annoying way possible. “Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey—”

Ryuji wheels around and of course, it’s Futaba. “Goddamn! What do you want?!”

“Joker needs us in the projection room. C’mon.” She scampers off towards the long corridor and when Ryuji looks down it, he catches the bright blond of Ann’s hair as she tails Haru and Yusuke around the corner of a doorway. Shit, he didn’t even notice that they left.

He turns to Kanji, a little sheepish. “Uh, heh. Gotta go. Good meetin’ you, man.” He offers up his fist again and this time, Kanji figures it out and knuckles him back. “Let’s get the hell outta here, huh?”

“Yeah, Senpai,” Kanji says, “we’re gonna do this together.”

\-------

It’s not long before the novelty of living in a movie theater wears off and Ryuji settles into his new daily routine.

Pick a movie, any movie. Go inside, run around, kick some ass. Ignore the obvious copyright infringement. Look for a way to escape, fail miserably. Get beat up, run back to the theater to lick your wounds. Wait for your next chance to get back out there, all while Kanji follows your every move.

That last one seems to be only Ryuji’s problem, but he’s grown used to that now, too. It helps that Kanji is around him for what seems like literally all the time. Always in his space, always hanging around, always coming up with excuses to bug him and strike up a conversation. But it’s not weird for Kanji to be so interested in Ryuji. It makes total sense, actually, because he’s from—

“The goddamn FUTURE!” Kanji slams his fists down on the table. “That is so freakin’ cool!”

“Hell yeah, man! Anything you wanna know, you just ask!” Ryuji says. “But don’t start askin’ me a bunch of technical shit. I ain’t that smart. TV show endings though, I got you covered!”

Of course, Ryuji was warned about this. ‘Time paradoxes are bad’, ‘stop causing continuity errors’, blah blah blah. But what's the point in knowing the future if you don't share the wealth?

It leads to the two of them comparing phones. They don’t turn on here, but just showing them off is fun anyway. Kanji won’t even put his down – Ryuji had kind of forgotten since he doesn’t have the world’s nicest, craziest shit or anything, but five years in technology time is like a zillion years in real time, isn’t it? Kanji looks so impressed with the damn thing and with Ryuji for having it in the first place. Imagine if they could go online. Kanji would freaking _lose it_. Then he’d look up, well, Ryuji doesn’t know, probably some lolcat memes or something.

Ryuji turns over Kanji’s cell in his hand. It’s an oldschool flip phone, kind of beat up, but the pastel bunny strap hanging off of it looks nice and clean. Somehow there was a girl out there brave enough to give this to him, and Ryuji swallows down his envy at the reminder that Shujin girls are seriously the worst. Anyways, the more he looks at the phone, the more it looks kind of familiar.

“You know, my mom mighta had this phone too when I was a kid.”

Kanji pulls a face. “Ain’t that old.”

“Dude, this phone is old as shit,” Ryuji says. “2016, remember? It's an effin' fossil now. When you get there, you’ll see. But you better not still be holdin’ on to this thing by then!”

Kanji grabs his phone back in a huff. But he doesn’t hand over Ryuji’s, holding them side by side instead in wistful comparison, like his phone will stop sucking so bad if he wishes hard enough. “Maybe I will! It’s still good. Don’t talk crap about it when you don’t even know.”

“Uh, I _do_ know. I’m from the future. Or… you’re from the past? …Hhhhuh.”

“Wait, how old are you again, Senpai?”

“Seventeen.”

Ryuji can see the gears turning in Kanji’s head. “In five years… then I’d be twenty, huh.”

“So you’re _fifteen_ now?”

“Yeah.” Kanji thumbs his nose. “Almost sixteen.”

Ryuji can’t fucking believe it. Kanji looks like he’s been running a soapland for a decade. He looks like he got held back a grade, forever. He looks like he flips truck tires for fun. If this is him at fifteen, what does he look like at twenty? A fucking Titan? 

And Kanji just smiles, like he has no goddamn clue he’s gonna grow up into some gear head’s wet dream. “Heh, so actually, it’s like I’m _your_ senpai.”

“Goddamn,” Ryuji croaks. “I guess so. I turned twelve in 2011.”

“Oh, shit. That’s true.”

“If we met up in real life, I’d either be a kid or you’d be an old man…” Kanji grimaces at that, which Ryuji blatantly ignores. “So we’re like, both older AND younger than each other… at the same time? Wow. This is kinda messin’ me up.”

“Well, what matters is, we’re here and there ain’t no goddamn years or time anymore. Far as I’m concerned, you’re still my senpai.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Ryuji says as Kanji pops him in the shoulder with an affectionate fistbump. Yeah, it’d be weird to switch it up now, right? He’s Ryuji-senpai. And it’s not like he can admit this, but he’s actually kind of happy being a senpai. You know, Kanji’s senpai. He’s just growing used to it, that’s all, and it's what Kanji wants him to be, even though he’s got plenty of them already. And if Kanji wants it that badly, then, well. 

How can Ryuji say no?

“Hey,” Ryuji says, holding his palm open flat. “Gimme my phone back already.”

Surprisingly, Kanji plops it back into his hand without a fight. “Damn shame these don’t work. I coulda put your number in my phone.”

“I know, seriously—” 

“I, I MEAN!” Kanji shouts. “For nothin’ weird! Just—just in case! What if you got lost or some shit?! And no one could find you? Come on! Shit’s dangerous out there!”

“Haha, dude, look at you!” He’s legit going pink in the face. It looks bad enough from the contrast alone, reddening cheeks against his pale skin and pale hair, but it gets even worse as soon as Ryuji says something about it. “What’re you freaking out for?”

“I ain’t freaking out!” Kanji says, right as he jumps up to his feet so fast he nearly trips and eats shit.

“Oh man, now that’s a lie. Wait,” Ryuji calls out at Kanji’s back, because he’s rushing for the door, “where are you goin’?”

“DRINKS! I’m gettin’ you a soda!” With that, Kanji barges out of the room and he’s gone. For ten seconds. Then Ryuji hears noise outside the door, recognizes the _stomp-stomp-STOMP_ coming right back even before Kanji leans his head back inside. “AND ONE FOR ME TOO!”

Who is he even kidding? Being a senpai is the best.

\-------

For the thousandth time today, Ryuji drops another prize from the claw.

He almost headbutts his forehead through the glass going after it. “Ugh, come ON!”

Ryuji’s put in his time at Gigolo. _A lot_ of time. In fact, he'd be what some would call a pro at pissing away his afternoons with game after game at the arcade. But he’s never won anything from a claw machine before. At first he wanted the dinosaur plush in the back because it looked like the best thing in the pit, but now he’ll take anything, literally anything, just to stop playing this shitty game and move on with his life. 

“Whatcha doin’, Senpai?”

By this point, the feeling of Kanji leaning into Ryuji's space is so expected that he doesn't even turn around. “I’m dying here, man. All I wanna do is win just one time. Just one! Can’t do it. This crappy-ass machine is rigged, seriously.”

Kanji immediately muscles in. “Senpai! I'll get it for you!” He hunches into a battle stance over the panel, hands hovering above the buttons like he’s ready to strike at any moment. “What do you want?”

“Wh—? Uh, shit, anything? Anything is fine?”

“You don’t want nothin’ special?”

“Not really,” Ryuji says – one, because it’s true, and two, because Kanji is underestimating the infinite bullshit potential of this thing. The neat pyramids Ryuji started with are long gone, knocked down into a giant garbage pile where the toys can more comfortably judge them for their failure, and none of them will stay put in the claw’s slippery grip. Asking for something specific in there is like asking Kanji to please kick himself in the balls while he's at it.

“Okay.” Kanji stares down the machine. “Uhh… I don’t have any money.”

Ryuji pops a few more coins into the machine and it jingles back to life. “Go for it.”

All Ryuji can do now is hang back and watch Kanji do whatever he’s going to do, which is spending a long moment peering through the glass. Making a plan of attack, or wallowing in regret, maybe. Then he makes two decisive button presses to angle the claw into position. It lowers down over the first thing on the top of the heap, a bizarre sausage-shaped plush, missing the center entirely and snapping up the back end of it with a click-clack. Welp. First attempt blown. Good thing Ryuji has no shame about spending as much of his imaginary movie money as it takes to win. 

Except that when the claw lifts up, the toy’s front end tips down and the back catches on the claw, somehow staying put. It’s so goddamn lucky. Actually, it’s perfect, like Kanji did it completely on purpose.

“Holy shit,” Ryuji whispers.

The claw putters back, its movement jostling the toy lower and lower, but it doesn’t matter – by the time its grip slips, it tumbles the toy right into the hole and down the chute.

“KANJI!” he whoops at full volume, whacking Kanji on the back. “Dude!! You’re awesome! How’d you even do that?!”

“Okina,” is all Kanji offers as an explanation for the miracle that just happened right in front of their eyes. He's not even hiding how proud he is as he drops the toy into Ryuji’s waiting hands. It’s a good-sized plush, nice and soft with its cheery colon-three smile beaming over its prison break, and Ryuji thrusts it out in victory.

“Hell yeah! Thanks, man! You’re the best!” 

“Heh… it was nothin’…”

“For real, that was crazy! Thought I was gonna be stuck playin’ this thing forever.”

“Hey, if you want, I can totally play forever.” Kanji thumps his fist on the button. “C’mon, Senpai! What’s next?”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. One’s good. Knowin’ your skills, I’ll be walkin’ around like some festival girlfriend with a million teddies.” Ryuji snickers and elbows Kanji. “This ain’t the manliest thing already.”

“Oh.” Kanji takes the elbow in his side full on, but even then, it only barely nudges him. “…Yeah?”

“Yeah. But thanks, though.”

Kanji stares back over at the machine, his face a little downtrodden. Which is kind of stupid, because he doesn’t need an excuse to go and play more when he’s a living, breathing god at this shit. Ah, whatever. Ryuji just shrugs and checks out his new prize.

“Wow, what’s this bear-lookin’ thing?” Well, ‘bear’ only in the face, because it’s got this bizarre, long tube of a body with a curlicue monkey tail stuck to the other end. Kind of cute, kind of freaky, enough so that it’s wrapped back around to being cute again—

“Sarumi-chan,” Kanji mumbles under his breath.

“Huh?”

“It’s SARUMI-CHAN! Okay?! What’s wrong with knowin’ that? What’s wrong with that?” He’s getting louder and louder as he talks, like each word is quadrupling in volume. “So what if I like cute shit! Doesn’t make me less of a man! Doesn’t make me no festival girlfriend! And so what if it did?! I’d be the manliest goddamn festival girlfriend ANYWAY!”

Ryuji throws his hands up. “Whoa, okay, okay! Calm down!”

“I AM CALM! I’M CALM AS HELL!”

“Alright! I believe you!” Ryuji has to lean back because Kanji is almost in his face now, huffing and puffing from the exertion of his tirade. “You—you like cute shit! I get it! I get it.” Wait. Does he? Because Kanji doesn’t look any less mad. “Look, I’m sorry. I wasn’t callin’ you a festival girlfriend. That’s not what I was sayin’.”

“It ain’t about that! It’s about bein’ a man, and bein’ okay with liking what I like! And if it’s cute, I LIKE IT!”

Kanji stops then, looking over Ryuji’s face in this weird kind of way, and Ryuji is pretty sure he’s about to get his ass beat when all of a sudden, Kanji backs off and away. There it is again, that crazy fluster he gets, flush all across his face like he’s embarrassed by even existing. Okay, now Ryuji knows for sure that he doesn’t get it. He just shuts up and lets Kanji work it out, whatever _it_ is, watching him sigh and scrub at his scalp.

“I told myself I wasn’t gonna cause trouble anymore,” Kanji finally says. “I wasn’t gonna lie anymore. Bein’ true to yourself… that’s what bein’ a real man is all about. Had to learn that the hard way. So I gotta be honest from now on, even if I don’t wanna be. Even if it’s about something… cute.” He thrusts out a finger. “So… if you got a problem with that, just say it!”

“It's okay, dude. I don't care. Actually, a lot of things make… so much sense now?”

Kanji squints. “The hell’s that supposed to mean?”

“Like. Your phone, and your keychain. And how you’d hide out in the theater messin’ with shit but you’d never let anyone see what you were doing. You’re not that stealthy, bro. You should’ve just said you were going off and sewin’ instead of being all mysterious.”

“It ain’t sewing! It’s crochet! You don’t sew amigurumi!” Then Kanji slams his fist out against the machine hard enough to make it rattle. “Shit!! Why do you keep makin’ me tell you this shit!!”

“I don’t know!” Ryuji yelps. If he did, he could have cured Kanji’s verbal diarrhea ages ago. “But so what, if you wanna tell me, just tell me. I’m not gonna hold it against you or anything. It ain’t bad to like what you like.” At that, Kanji bows his head like he’s getting a good scolding. Ah, shit. Ryuji reins in a little, because otherwise he’s gonna start feeling bad. “Kanji, don’t worry. Seriously. I don’t care. Okay?”

Kanji looks up, finally extinguished. “…Okay. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t gotta be sorry, man. You just gotta be proud of your hobbies. You’re the one doin’ ‘em, after all. What are you even makin’ in there, anyway?”

“Oh, uhhh, y’know. Stuff, and things.”

“Okay, vague. Like what kinda stuff? Is it cute?” Kanji’s face twists up. Bullseye. “Yeah, it is. Bet if you made me something, you’d go with cute right away.”

The intensity comes back into Kanji’s face, but it’s not in anger. More like how he looks in the first few seconds of a battle, right as he’s getting fired up, his eyes lighting up with excitement before he hops straight onboard the hype train.

“Man, if you want cute, I can give you cute. And I’m talkin’ extreme, no holds barred adorable.”

“Uh… extreme?” Ryuji holds up his doll. “I was thinkin’ it was something more like Sarumi.”

“Sarumi- _chan_ ,” Kanji corrects, “and when I’m makin’ something, I go all out. You think this is cute? I got shit that’ll make you squee your pants. But don’t get me wrong, Sarumi-chan is great. Right, Senpai?”

“Yeah, I mean, Sarumi… chan is… is already kinda.” Ryuji watches Kanji’s face as he talks, trying to gauge his reaction before he steps onto another landmine. “Cute?”

“Damn straight,” Kanji says. “And I can make her look even cuter. Gimme a couple hours, I’ll show you.”

“Uh, sure, man. Bye?”

Kanji snatches the Sarumi doll back and he’s off to the races, rushing off with a determined look while Ryuji can only awkwardly stand there and watch him leave.

After that, Ryuji doesn’t see him for the rest of the day, and before he knows it, those ‘couple hours’ turn into overnight. It could actually be the longest amount of time they’ve spent apart since they got here, and it’s a strange realization to have that, for once, Kanji is not actively seeking him out like the world’s beefiest bloodhound. Not a bad thing, because Kanji is hard at work doing whatever it is he’s decided to do and Ryuji knows where to find him if he really wants to. Just… different.

Ryuji doesn’t dwell on it, though. He’s not thinking about it at all while he hangs out at the concession stand, joking around with some of the guys, and that’s how Kanji scares the absolute shit out of him. As soon as the guys leave, he swoops in and catches Ryuji by the counter, appearing at his side so suddenly it’s like he’d teleported there.

Ryuji jolts. “Gah! Where’d you come from?!”

“Oh, s-sorry, I just, uh.”

Kanji looks over his shoulder, and then he leans in over Ryuji with an air of utmost secrecy.

“Here,” Kanji says.

When he hands over the Sarumi, Ryuji does a double take. This thing? Looks completely different now. It’s wearing actual perfectly-sized clothes – a cableknit sweater, meticulously made with a level of detail that Ryuji didn’t even know got that small, with stout little booties on all of its feet. There are even a few accessories: a bow, a little scarf, a tiny warm beanie with an even tinier yarn pompom on top. Looks like it got itself all dressed up for an adventure in the snow, except it’s just a freaking doll, and Kanji made the whole thing happen with his own two hands like some kind of home ec wizard. 

“Whoa, you’re… dude, you’re real good.” He’s not even sure what to really say, because this is a level of effort he wasn’t expecting. “Hold up. Did you seriously make this shit in a day?!”

“Didn’t mean to take that long… I kinda went overboard with her things. Yeah, probably didn’t need _two_ hats.”

“No, I mean, that’s nuts how fast you are! This is so freakin’ good!” Ryuji glances back up. “Hey, you didn’t have to do all this. Thanks, Kanji.”

“It was no big deal,” Kanji mumbles. Yeah, right. He looks beside himself that Senpai Noticed, not even hiding the happiness in his eyes as he watches Ryuji.

And when Ryuji smiles, he swears Kanji looks happier than Sarumi does.

\-------

Kanji doesn’t know how lucky he is. What Ryuji wouldn’t give some days to have Morgana just leave him the hell alone, and here Kanji is getting all depressed because oh _woe_ , Morgana wouldn’t let Kanji pet him and hid somewhere in the bathrooms instead. Even the churro Ryuji brought him isn’t snapping him out of his funk.

“Cheer up, Kanji-kun,” Fuuka says, patting his shoulder. “Maybe you can ask him again later. Oh, but I bet Koro-chan would love to be pet by you!”

“No, I’m pretty sure he won’t,” Kanji mopes.

“Would you just eat your damn churro?” Ryuji waves the thing in his face until Kanji finally takes it. Goddamn, it’s depressing just to watch him eat it, like he’s taking a big bite of sugar-coated sadness.

Ryuji flops down in the chair next to Fuuka's. She’s been at this longer than he has, sitting around here for the better part of a half-hour and trying to baby Kanji like it’s her job, which it kind of is. She’s honestly pretty good at it. Must be why she’s a navigator and he’s not. He’s built for kicking ass, not wrangling everybody's emotional hang-ups.

But… still. 

Ryuji leans in anyway. “Y’know, in the real world, Morgana’s actually a cat. Like, a for-real one.” 

Kanji peeks up, the butt-end of the churro disappearing into his mouth with one last chew. “…Really?”

“Uh huh. Same eyes and color and everything.”

“A tuxedo,” Kanji says wistfully.

“Now that’s the kinda cat you’d wanna pet. Not some… stumpy bobblehead freak of nature. So trust me, ain’t that much of a loss.” Ryuji reaches out for his own shoulder pat, giving Kanji a hearty slap. “Actually works out better this way!”

“Ah, um, isn’t that a little harsh, Ryuji-kun?”

Well, it did make Kanji stop sulking, even if he looks disgruntled now instead. “Yeah, Senpai. Not cool.”

“Shit, okay, sorry. Just tryin’ to make you feel better.” For some reason. Ryuji has no idea why. “How come you wanna pet him that bad anyway?”

“He just looks soft,” Kanji says. “And smooth, too. Like you could pet ‘im for hours and hours without gettin’ tired… who wouldn’t want to do that? Oh, but if he was fluffy the way Koromaru is, then he’d be perfect.”

Ryuji faintly nods. “Uh… huh. Yeah, I can see that.” 

His agreement must reek of total bullshit, because it only makes Kanji double down. “No, there’s nothin’ better. Fluffy’s the best, man. The best! Y’know, tons of floof that goes ‘sproing’ under your hand… like pettin’ a furry cloud. Damnit! It’s so good! Seriously, you don’t believe me?” He circles his palm an inch over his own head. “Like—try pattin’ your head, Ryuji-senpai. Like this.”

“Okay?”

“Like pettin’ your hair, Senpai, just. Try it.”

Ryuji does so, very half-assedly. Yep. That’s his hair, alright. Minus the ‘sproing’.

“See? Doesn’t your hair feel all fluffy and satisfying when you touch it? Right?” Not really, but before Ryuji can say otherwise, Kanji throws his shoulders up in a sudden, self-conscious shrug. “B-But I’m just throwin’ shit out here. I dunno what it actually feels like. Never even thought about it!”

 _Oho_. Oh man. Ryuji shouldn’t. He really shouldn’t tease Kanji right now, especially after turning his mood around, _especially_ knowing how far Kanji can fly off the handle, but Ryuji knows an opportunity when he sees one. It takes him only a quick moment of deliberation before he points up at himself.

“So you… wanna pet my head too?”

Immediately, Kanji goes on red alert. “WHOA! I NEVER SAID THAT SHIT!”

“Hey, you really wanna? Okay. Go ahead, you can do it. It’s cool.” Ryuji smiles wide. It's a nasty grin, fueled entirely by Kanji’s growing panic. “Get it out of your system, yeah?”

“HELL NO! W-WHAT SYSTEM! THERE AIN'T NOTHIN' IN THERE!!”

“That’s a perfect idea!” Fuuka, the world’s greatest unintentional wingman, claps her hands together excitedly. “You do look a little fluffy, Ryuji-kun. You’ll be like… a substitute! For practice! Then Koro-chan and Mona-chan won’t be scared with your great petting skills, Kanji-kun.”

“You both stupid or something?!” Kanji shouts, but it’s too late. Hands on his thighs, Ryuji theatrically bows forward and presents his head like an irresistible offering. He can’t see Kanji’s expression bent over like this, but he knows it’s got to be good. “Aww, damnit, c’mon…!”

“Here, man. It’s alllll yours.”

Oh, if his face is good, then his stunned silence is even better, reduced to stewing in his own irritation. Ryuji snickers and braces himself for the rough scrub he knows is coming. Some you-little-rascal ruffle, his due reward for annoying the shit out of Kanji so hard he had no choice but to forget about all his troubles. Ryuji’ll even live with the bald spot afterwards.

But when Kanji touches down on his head, it’s the slow press of the flat of his hand, warm and shockingly gentle, like it’s the most careful, tender touch he could muster. Kanji sweeps his fingers down, slowly pulling through Ryuji’s hair over and over and over again until his scalp tingles, until he’s got to suck his bottom lip into his mouth to keep from letting loose a torrent of filthy-ass cursing and ruining the whole thing.

Was… was this supposed to be relaxing? Because it’s not. The back of Ryuji’s neck is tingling now too, like a chill is brewing at the base of his skull, like every little hair on it is prickling to life, and his heart is beating faster and faster, and he’s pretty sure he’s going to explode out of his own skin. It’s just Kanji’s hand. It’s just his freaking _hand_ that’s doing unspeakable things to Ryuji’s nervous system. Kanji can’t pet Morgana like this – there’s no way. He’d make that damn cat spontaneously combust.

And Fuuka, oblivious to his inner turmoil, just hovers somewhere over him and hums.

“How is it?” she asks. “Is it fluffy?”

“It’s nice,” Kanji says quietly, shy as can be.

Ryuji sits right the fuck up. Doesn’t know why, but he just—does it. Doesn't know what Kanji's face looks like, but he just—wants to see. And there Kanji is, hand still held up mid-stroke, looking caught, looking so, so _red_ , because he’s blushing like fucking crazy. He snaps his hand back to his side and scowls, like _Ryuji_ was the one who perverted it with his touch.

“Stick to pettin’ your dolls,” Ryuji says, and Kanji socks him in the arm.

\-------

It’s Hamuko’s turn to be field leader again, so Ryuji shouldn’t be surprised that she’s got the five of them standing around aimlessly in the middle of a jungle, thumbs firmly up their asses.

“Eggs!” She mimes them with her hands, just in case they don’t know what the hell an egg is. “Theo needs special eggs.”

Oh, goddamnit. _That’s_ why they went back to Knockoff Jurassic Park? The worst film they’ve been to, hands down? Because this place sucks ass. The air here is muggy and heavy and gnatty, sticking close to Ryuji like a sweaty fog there’s no escape from. Awful for anybody, but a complete nightmare for him thanks to being shrinkwrapped in the leathers of his subconscious. At least the pyramid had air conditioning— _this_ is just torture.

Yukiko snaps out her fan and starts cooling herself off right in front of him. Yeah, maybe upgrade that torture level to ‘deep agony’.

Souji asks the question they’re all thinking. “Why does Theodore need special eggs?”

“Oh, you know why,” Hamuko says.

“No, I mean, why does Theodore _need_ special eggs? Is it that important to drop everything for this?”

“Yeah!” Ryuji piggybacks off the momentum. “The dude’s a freakin’ doormat! Don’t enable him!”

But of the two of them, Ryuji is the only one Hamuko gives a dirty look to. “Ohhhh, okay. So you can have a guy to spoil and I can’t?” —Huh?— “Don’t come if you don’t want to!”

“Fine! I won’t!” 

But there’s no good exit from this conversation considering their location, so Ryuji just stands where he is and folds his arms tight like a cantankerous toddler. Hamuko looks on indifferently. Ryuji doesn’t know where she gets off, acting like they’re remotely in the same boat. More like in different friggin’ oceans. What the hell is she talking about? Who’s he even spoiling?

He shoots a look over to Kanji, who only shrugs. Maybe Ryuji was kinda showing his ass there, but he feels better seeing Kanji look so unbothered by it. So they give each other some bro-to-bro moral support sometimes. So what. Nothing spoiled about it.

“Um.” Yukiko peeks at them from behind her fan. “Maybe we all need a break from each other?”

Souji scratches at his head. “Yeah, that’s… starting to sound like a good idea.”

Kanji nods at Souji. “Senpai, don’t worry about it. You guys go ahead. I can stick around here with Ryuji-senpai. The Shadows here can’t do shit to us anymore, right?”

“Well… sure, if you’re fine with that. Just be careful, Kanji. I’m counting on you.”

“Heh! You got it, Senpai.” 

Hamuko loops her arm around Souji’s and tugs on it with a big smile. “Alright! Thanks for volunteering for the egg hunt, Souji!” Souji looks like he wants to be literally anywhere else. That doesn't stop her from giving him the big, bright goo-goo eyes she's reserved for very few people. It's her white hair thing. Seriously, what's so special about the hair?

Yukiko sidles up to Hamuko’s other side and links arms with her, too. “Shall we?”

“I guess we’re off, then,” Souji says, resigned. 

Kanji waves them off, and the three of them head into the jungle arm-in-arm, Hamuko starting to swing them, and something about it looks a little too familiar. Oh, right, that was from Knockoff Wizard of Oz, the second-worst film they’ve ever done. Holy shit, this place is terrible.

Ryuji sighs. He runs his hand through his hair, dragging all the sweat from his forehead along with it. “So… what? Are we just gonna wait around for them…?”

Kanji looks around the clearing, at all the shit there isn’t there to do. Just an endless expanse of green and heat and moisture so thick it’s smothering.

“Wanna go exploring?”

“ _Exploring_ ,” Ryuji shoots back.

“Why not?” Kanji, on the other hand, manages to hold his bitchiness in check. “We’re here anyway, so let’s go do somethin’. You know… together.”

“Uhhh.” Ryuji stands and stares. Traipsing through the jungle on the blind hope that it’ll be fun and great and not a total waste of their time is a pretty big gamble. But Kanji looks so earnest about it, has got that little boy twinkle of adventure in his eye, so Ryuji quickly caves in. “Okay. Sure. Lead the way, man.”

There’s no real plan here – just pick a random direction and go. The park is so gigantic that even after so many trips here, he’s sure they haven’t touched even half of the map, with countless roads that go nowhere but deeper into the asshole of the tropics. The path they chose looks like one of them already. The dirt road is starting to choke up with plants, looking more and more wild the farther in they walk, but they push on. Oh man, and they’re both shit with directions. The last time they were here, it was the whole group of them together, and even then they managed to get horribly lost. Doesn’t look like Kanji would care if that happens. He’s just smiling away to himself, pleased as punch even though there’s nothing here but the two of them, so at ease that Ryuji can’t be bothered either.

“Remember the waterfall?” Kanji says. “Let’s go find it again.”

Ryuji looks over. “You really liked that waterfall, huh?”

“Yeah. It’s so freakin’ big. Biggest one I’ve ever seen. Nature is badass, man.” Kanji goes a little quiet, coughs. When he speaks up again, his voice is just a mumble. “And s’pretty.”

“And there it is! Into all the beautiful nature shit!” Ryuji hoots, grinning because Kanji isn’t, because he’s making a pissface a mile wide. “You some kind of hippie romantic on the inside?”

“Sh-shut up! You think I won’t go rumble in the jungle on your ass?! Huh?!”

Kanji swings an elbow at him and Ryuji bounces his right back and he laughs, hard enough that he’s got to bend over. Man, teasing Kanji is great. It's so easy now to make him turn tomato-red, only takes the most low-effort garbage trolling possible, like Ryuji’s got the switch to make Kanji flush up whenever he wants. Kanji just stomps along farther up the path, pushing through and snapping the plants that have the audacity to be in his way. There’s a careful amount of distance he’s leaving between them. Far enough to be meaningful, close enough that he can run back to Ryuji's side whenever he gives it up. He’s pissed, but not pissed enough to leave Ryuji behind.

Ryuji laughs some more, because that’s so like Kanji. What’s he even gonna do when these movies are gone and he can’t follow Ryuji around like a lost puppy anymore? He’ll be so bored in that little shithole town of his. Murder mysteries are fun but they don’t last forever, probably, so he’ll have to find something else to occupy his time. Or someone else. At some point, it’ll just have to happen.

At least they still have the chance to do things like this. It’s nice. They’re just two guys, going together to look at the pretty waterfall.

Yeah.

Ryuji chews on that thought. It won’t leave his brain, stuck in there like an arrow. Like he’s on the verge of realizing something really important, all his brain cells turning over but nothing firing. He’s not a real thinker kind of guy, doesn’t ponder and brood on all of life’s problems and he’d probably forget about it if he tried, but it feels as if he could figure this out if he just thinks hard enough.

Suddenly, the big tree trunk he passes by shifts and moves. Hmm. Trees don’t usually walk. Ryuji contemplates that, too. 

Then Ryuji looks up and contemplates the well-muscled thigh of a Tyrannosaurus rex.

And because he never, ever considers the consequences of his actions, he’s already cupping his hands to his mouth and shouting out to Kanji, “FOE!”

It looks at Ryuji. Swear to god looks straight at him with one beady little eye, and he is _so fucked_. It’s already turning his way as he waves off Kanji to scram, to just get the hell out of here, but Kanji is standing shock-still like a moron, openly gawking at him. They have a five minute argument with their eyes in the span of five seconds because Kanji just won’t—fucking— _go_ , until the FOE breaks it up for them with a roar so ferocious it shakes in Ryuji’s ribcage.

Ryuji breaks into a run. 

All speed, zero strategy; just weaving through the trees and busting through the thicket as fast as he can, blood rushing so hard in his ears that it drones out the thundering footsteps right on his heels. It’s enough to outpace it, eking out precious inches between him and the FOE until Ryuji’s got a sizable lead. These big bastards like a good chase but they don’t like to work too hard for it, and with enough distance they eventually give up. All Ryuji has to do is to keep going and he’s safe. He can do it if he’s fast as hell, knows he still is. 

Oh god, but Kanji is so slow.

“Kanji,” he gasps.

He pops off his heel into a hard cut to his right. The FOE tries to follow him, wants to real bad, but it can’t keep up with a turn like that and snags itself fast between the trees. By the time Ryuji hears it crunch free, he’s already lost it fifty yards away. He’s barreling through the jungle, straight like a missile to where Kanji should’ve gone; just a single-minded, one-man mission to get there before something else does first.

He can hear Kanji yelling up ahead now, taking turns between Take-Mikazuchi’s name and screaming like his mom is spanking him in the middle of the playground. When Ryuji hits the clearing, he sees it: another FOE, a huge one, one of those pterodactyls built like a goddamn plane that nearly carried Junpei off the first time they fought it, and it’s whipping up wind all around Kanji, blowing his jacket around in a whirl. 

The telltale streaks of green energy surrounding the FOE start to wreathe, and Kanji hunkers down and braces himself for impact, the only thing left he can do. Not true—he just needs to get out of Ryuji’s way.

Ryuji heads straight for him. “Kanji! Get down!”

“What the hell?!” Kanji turns to stare at him, eyes wide. “You came back?!”

“GET! DOWN!” And Kanji stands there, still just can’t listen, so Ryuji shoulders past and knocks Kanji’s stupid ass to the ground. He skids and stops between Kanji and the FOE, looks up into the volley of wind that’s hurtling towards them. Here it comes.

Ryuji plants his feet, inhales, and his mask burns away.

“GARUDA!”

The Persona comes alive in front of him in a burst of flame, outstretched wings flapping off blue embers, right in time to catch the full force of the blast directly in its face. 

Just the way Ryuji wanted it. 

The magic absorbs into Garuda’s skin with a hiss, making it glow that much brighter; like a beautiful, shining beacon of the FOE’s dumbassery for all to see. 

And the shit-eating grin Ryuji gets is just _evil_. “Thought you got me, huh? Lameass!”

The FOE stops short in front of Garuda, completely confused, and Ryuji admires his huge brain for bringing the right Persona along. Handy guy. Honestly, there’re other Personas he’d rather be using but whenever he and Kanji are together on the team, he knows he’s got to pick up the slack and cover Kanji’s ass, too. The guy can’t choose a good sub for shit.

But that’s as far as Ryuji goes. Between the two of them, they don’t have the tools to fight this thing. Kanji knows it, because he’s already up and grabbing onto Ryuji’s shoulders. “Senpai, it’s gonna kick our ass!”

“Yeah, I know!” He’s got to hold it off, got to figure it out fast; the FOE is already flapping its wings again and stretching its talons out, readying itself up for some bird-on-bird violence. Ryuji can take that hit, too. Just needs the one, whatever it takes to buy Kanji time. “Shit, just get outta here!”

“Fuck no! If we’re goin’ out, it’s together!”

Together, together! It’s always together! Is Kanji that much of an idiot? What’s the point if they both bite it? What’s it worth getting three more seconds with his senpai? But Ryuji doesn’t tell him off. He just shuts his eyes and thinks. Tries to remember everything Akira’d said this Persona could do. Anything, anything at all—

“Agidyne,” Ryuji says.

He has just enough juice left for one. It’s a true Hail Mary, the only last-ditch move he has against an FOE. But not here – Ryuji doesn’t know much about magic, but he does know that an Agidyne isn’t something to bust out in close quarters. That shit is huge, like casually dropping a nuke on whatever poor bastard picked a fight with you. But they might not have a choice. They’re trapped at the clearing edge with the FOE advancing on them, and there’s no time left to decide.

“What? Agidyne what?”

“Hold on!”

Ryuji reaches out to Kanji, grabbing onto him tight, as Garuda spreads its wings wide and unleashes an all-encompassing fireball right in front of them.

Before he knows it, they’re airborne.

If this was a real movie, right here’s where the stuntman and the hundred million yen special effects budget would come in. But no, it’s just their own stupid asses, just him and Kanji blasted up into the air and straight down the gully behind them. Ryuji crashes back to earth and rolls and rolls and rolls down the hill, head over heels, every smash of contact to the ground bouncing him that much more out of control. It feels like he’s going to keep spiraling forever, and then all of a sudden, he hits flat ground and finally, finally tumbles to a dead stop.

Still, the world feels like it’s spinning circles around him. He waits until he stops seeing double before he tries calling out. “…Kanji?”

“Mmmungh,” is all Kanji says.

“Alright, cool,” Ryuji mumbles back.

He’s not in any hurry to get up. He just lays where he is, ragdolled face down into the dirt while every inch of him from his head to his ass starts to ache. But it’s not so bad. The ground feels a little cool, a little refreshing; like he’d landed on top of some moss, maybe. The trees are buzzing and singing, shivering and swaying. Somewhere, in the distance, there’s the roar of rushing water. Look at how peaceful this is.

After a very long time, they both manage to sit up. Ryuji’s brain sloshes forward with the movement and he slumps his head on top of his knee. “Okay… that shit? Was like… a real-ass explosion. I’m never doin’ that again. Explosions… effin’ hurt.”

And they’ve gotta keep this one to themselves, because if the explosion didn’t kill them then Hamuko will for getting into this dumb shit. Who knows where they are now, or how far away they’ve ended up from each other, so at least for the time being they’re well-protected from her wrath. So… maybe it’s safe for Ryuji to be just a little bit excited.

“But man, you think we blew that dinosaur up?! Look at how far we went. I bet we totally did.” With considerable effort, Ryuji manages to teeter to his feet. “Heh. Not too bad for makin’ it out alive, huh?” He slaps the dirt off of his kneepads. “Right, Kanji? Kanji.”

It’s only now that Ryuji takes a real good look at him. Kanji is still sitting there, just staring back at him. There’s a long trickle of blood running down from his nose, dripping off from his chin to his shirt in slow, oozy drops.

“Oh shit,” Ryuji says. 

Kanji doesn’t say anything.

“Oh shit. Oh shit!” He loosely claps Kanji on the cheek a few times, even though he’s nowhere near dazed. It’s more like he’s never been more awake, eyes bright and wide and fixed so close on Ryuji’s face the reflection’s clear in his pupils, lit up like Ryuji is the only point of light there is. “Are you okay, man?”

And Kanji finally opens his mouth.

“Whoa…” he says, in pure and undeniable adoration. “You were… _so_ cool out there, Ryuji-senpai.”

Ryuji’s heart seizes, squeezes, straight-up fucking triple heelflips in his chest. It’s a rush so startling he almost drops back down to the ground. Suddenly, he gets it now. He’s getting it way, way too well. He could try to come up with another explanation – the suspension bridge effect, the cumulative brain damage – but the feeling is unmistakable.

It’s more than the way Kanji is looking at him. It’s the way he’s looking at Kanji.

And as the heat floods into his cheeks, Ryuji already knows what color he is.

\-------

The Super Secret Emergency Phantom Thieves Meeting convenes one night in the employee break room, attended by only three people: Ryuji and Akira and Ann and a big tub of popcorn between them that they’re frankly forcing themselves to eat at this point.

The topic at hand: the absolutely apeshit bananas romantic revelation Ryuji has just had, and what he’s even going to do about it.

Ryuji called the meeting together himself with the only people he could live with knowing _and_ who might actually keep their mouths shut about it. It was a very, very short list. Even still, it was enough, and now Ryuji is looking across the table at two people who don’t realize they’re about to become a sounding board for his most intimate issues. Everything about this meeting was a secret, even the reason for it, so Ryuji finally gets to clue them in. He’s maybe starting to sweat a little bit.

Ryuji sits back in his chair, aiming for an appearance even remotely close to casual. “Thanks for comin’, guys. I know this was kinda sudden, but… I really need some help here.”

“Is this gonna be fast?” Ann says, already lounged back in hers. “It’s the girls’ movie night. I can’t be late every time.”

“Uh, depends on you guys. If your advice sucks, we’re gonna be here for awhile.”

Akira is still digging around in the popcorn bucket. “What’s the problem?”

“I, uh. Ain’t really a _problem_ , actually, ‘cause it’s not so bad. It’s more like somethin’ I don’t know how to handle. I mean, I can handle it, I just need some advice about how to do it, so… uh.” Ryuji faffs around for another few moments before he cuts to the chase. “So, I got a crush on somebody.”

Ann’s jaw unironically drops. “You like someone here?! Oh my god! Who? Who?”

“Is it Mitsuru?” Akira asks.

“Huh? No!”

“Because Mitsuru will kill you.” He shovels more popcorn into his mouth. “Ask me how I know.”

“Can it.” Ann slaps her hand at Akira without even looking his way and scoots forward. “So? Who is it?”

“Uh… it’s… ” 

At the last possible second, Ryuji hesitates. It’s so dumb, but look at him doing it anyway. He’s sitting here with two of his best friends, because he asked them to, because they actually showed up to help, and he still can’t get the words out. If he can’t tell them, then who the fuck can he tell? Definitely not the one person he wants to say this to the most. And the longer he drags this out, the worse it’ll get. Yeah, it’s like anything else – he’s just gotta do it. No pain, no gain.

He leans across the table and whispers it into their ears.

Akira abruptly stands up. “Whoa! Forgot my drink! Be right back!” 

“KANJI?!” Ann shrieks, still perfectly seated. Ryuji shoves his hand right to her face to shush her up and he’d do the same to Akira if he wasn’t already out the door. “You—ugh! Don’t put your fingers in my mouth!”

“Then shut up already! Damn, you want the whole world to hear?”

Ann ducks away from his hand, spittling from her mouth like it’s so gross and not deliciously butter-flavored. She wipes at her lips, clearly peeved, but she glances back over at Ryuji. “...Are you serious? It’s really Kanji-kun?”

“That’s what I said,” Ryuji grumbles.

Ann’s really looking him over him now. Like he’s bathed in that metaphorical new light and she needs the time to take him in. A slight squint to her eyes even, as if he was just that bright. “Wow, that’s not… what I was expecting at all? I’m kinda impressed, Ryuji. I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“ _Okay_ , whatever!”

Ann needles Ryuji in the leg with her foot under the table and smiles. He kicks it away with no real force and damnit, he kind of smiles back. Because there! There, he straight up said it, and it didn’t turn out like shit after all. It felt good, actually, putting it out there. A huge weight off his shoulders, just like that. He even sits up taller.

“Sooo, how long were you sitting on that juicy detail for?”

“Uh, not that long. I didn’t like him like that until recently, or… I guess I didn’t think about liking him like that? Didn’t think that much about liking guys, period. Kanji just… makes me feel that way about him. And actually… I think I got a good shot if I don’t mess it up.” Ryuji shrugs. “So that’s why I’m askin’ for your help. ‘Cause I dunno what to do here… like, I get it for a girl, yeah, but where do I start with a guy?”

“Well…” Ann starts fussing with her pigtails, her cue that she’s transforming into girl talk mode. “I don’t think it has to be that different. You like someone because they’re _them_ , right? If you treat them like any other guy or girl, then what’s the point?” 

Ryuji stares blankly. “Huh.”

“I mean, if you get so caught up on the part where you’re like, ‘oh, he’s a guy!’ and then start doing generic guy things for him because you think that’s what you have to do… you get what I'm saying? You’re friends. You already know what he likes. Sure, Kanji-kun’s got the whole tough guy thing going on, but what he really likes is… you know, cute stuff, and little animals, all his artsy-crafty things…”

“So… basically like a chick.”

Ann rolls her eyes. “We’re not all like that.”

“So what’re you sayin’? I gotta knit him an effin’ sweater or something? Put a little heart on it?”

“I’m saying you like him for him and that’s that. Right? And he likes you back, right? So just be normal with him and go for it. It’s not like you think that hard about anything else you do, anyway.”

“Hey! You… ain’t wrong.” Ryuji should probably be more offended than this, but it’s true. For once, he’s actually overthinking things. This is Kanji, the same guy who once checked Ryuji’s ass out from behind his folding chair like Ryuji wouldn’t notice, which he totally did. He has this in the bag. And maybe he’ll make something for Kanji anyway, just because he can. “Shit. Yeah, I gotta just go for it.”

It’s then that the break room door bangs wide open and Ryuji jumps in his seat. He’s happy to see that it’s only Futaba clumsily barging in, and then immediately appalled because _no one is supposed to know they’re here_ and she’s shouting out loud, “You like Kanji?!”

Akira strolls in behind her and Ryuji glares at him in ultimate betrayal. “You TOLD her?!” He just smiles and shrugs. “ALREADY?!”

“You like him?! You actually like him?!”

“Dude, quit it! Get off!” Ryuji throws up a forearm to block Futaba’s tiny gremlin hands as best he can, slapping him all over while she cackles with glee.

“How come?!” She stops her assault, but hovers right into his personal space instead. “I mean, random much? Didja just pull his name out of a hat?”

Akira and Ann give him a completely unhelpful _yeah, why IS that?_ look and Ryuji flounders under their combined attention. “I, I dunno. He’s just. He’s cute n’ shit. He _does_ cute shit. Like he’s always yellin’ about his goddamn animals, and makin’ his little clothes, and when he gets all excited about ‘em he can’t even talk right ‘cause he’s so embarrassed and, heh, his faces are seriously the best, guys, like how can a big-ass dude like that come in lookin’ like Mr. Hate The Cops but actin’ like a shy schoolgirl? Shit, it’s just, uh. Just… cute.” Ryuji cuts it short, because they’ve been staring at him with saucer eyes the entire time and it’s not getting any better the more he talks. “Hey, how come I gotta explain myself here?”

 _Cute_ , Akira mouths to himself like he’s never heard the word in his life.

“That’s… one way to look at Kanji-kun, I guess,” Ann says.

“Aren’t you pretty much the same person?” Futaba says.

“The hell? We ain’t the same at all!”

“He’s like the Hulk version of you. Wait, he’s you, but from an alternate dimension and instead of the goatee he’s just really, really big.”

“Man, I don’t get like half the shit you say sometimes,” Ryuji whines.

“Loving yourself is just masturbation,” Akira adds.

Futaba claps her hands over her mouth and gleefully lizard laughs while Ann makes a disgusted face. “ _Gross!_ ”

The final minutes of the meeting devolve into more arguing and dick jokes, but overall Ryuji is chalking this one up as a success. He’s got a plan _and_ it was time better spent than at the girls’ movie night, which Ann doesn’t even remember until she sees the clock and freaks out. She’s late again but she’s not mad, because she still takes the time to whisper a cheery “You got this!” to Ryuji before she heads out the door with Futaba in tow. “Bye bye!”

“Yeah, see you guys,” Akira says with a wave.

Ryuji jumps to his feet in a hurry. “Akira, don’t you go anywhere! You’re gonna regret breaking the bro code!” He throws a few more kernels into his mouth first and then pushes the popcorn away in disgust. “Ugh, I can't finish this crap.”

This movie theater is fucked up. He hates popcorn and he likes Kanji Tatsumi and nothing in the world makes sense anymore.

But maybe it doesn’t have to.

\-------

A few days later, Ryuji walks through the cinema with the culmination of all his hard work: tucked under his arm is a Sarumi doll, complete with a custom paint job.

And they said he wasn’t an artist. Amazing how much he can do with one stolen marker.

First he tried to fix the smile, drawing a nice big new one over its chubby mouth in his usual shark-toothed grin. And he redrew the eyes to put a little sparkle into them – you know, cute ‘em up some – but he fucked one up so he turned it into a sick eyepatch. Just in case it wasn’t obvious enough, he even took the time to draw a perfect big black heart on the back. It took a freaking calling card’s level of effort, but he did it. It’s a little bit freaky, a little bit cute, but most of all it’s everything that Kanji likes, and everything that Ryuji likes about him.

He finds Kanji in the back of the screening room, seated right under the projector like usual, all his yarns and supplies tucked securely into the folded-up seat next to him. He’s hunched over the large fancy square he’s crocheting with a look of real focus to him, eyes downturned and brows set to a hard line, and it might be the low lighting or it might be Ryuji’s continued descent into madness but Kanji looks kind of handsome like this. It’s almost sad to have to interrupt him, but when Ryuji peeks over at him, Kanji is already making just the tiniest glance up. 

“Oh, Senpai. ‘Sup.”

Ryuji nudges the Sarumi into Kanji’s shoulder until he’s forced to look. “Hey. I got you something.”

“Sarumi-chan?” Kanji looks from the plush to him, and back again. “Why? You don’t want it?” He squints at the face. “What’d you do…?”

“No, this one’s for you. You won one for me so I figured… I should get you one back.”

Kanji smiles wryly. “No fuckin’ way. I thought you were bad at crane games.”

“We ain’t gonna talk about how long it took me, okay? Just take it.”

Kanji does, finally, and oh man, he’s really checking this thing out. “For reals? This is so cool…” He goes over each and every one of the scribbles with a careful eye, his wide smile growing even wider. “D’you really draw all this, Senpai?”

“Yeah,” Ryuji says, frankly a little embarrassed.

“Whoa. Didn’t peg you for that either.” Kanji traces his thumb over the heart, like he’s outlining Ryuji’s feelings. Shit. _Shit._

“Well, y’know. Sometimes I’m full of surprises.”

That makes Kanji snort out a laugh. Ha, well, wait ‘til Ryuji drops an even bigger one on him. Sarumi was just the opener; what Ryuji’s about to say next is the shit that’s really gonna blow his mind. He can’t punk out now. He has to approach this how Kanji would want it – man-to-man, real talk, no bullshit.

Ryuji exhales deeply and leans over.

“Hey, do you like me?”

Kanji looks up at him. Same easy slouch, same light to his eyes; just completely, uncharacteristically chill. “Huh? ‘Course I like you, Senpai. C’mon. I don’t hang out with just any asshole here.” Then he goes back to admiring his Sarumi, turning it over in his hands again to pinch its little legs.

Oh. 

Oh? Wait. That… wasn’t how this was supposed to go. Hold on.

“But is it.” Ryuji flashes his eyebrows. “ _Like_ -like? Like _really_ like me. Kanji.”

Now that gets him a reaction. But it isn't any better: Kanji freezes in place, his eyes wide open, caught completely off guard. “What. What?” He whips his head over. “What’re you talking about? 

“I’m talkin’ about us. Liking each other. I’m askin’ if you like me, ‘cause.” Ryuji pauses because he’s got to swallow, now that his heart is trying its hardest to jump into his throat. “That’s… how I’ve been thinkin’ of you.”

“Damn. A-Are you hearin’ yourself?” Kanji still looks stunned, like maybe he didn’t hear Ryuji quite right. “Makin’ this sound like some kinda confession.”

“But I am, man. I’m confessin’ to you right now. I got you a freakin’ gift and everything.”

At the reminder, Kanji takes his Sarumi and dumps it on top of his shitty yarn. “Thanks,” he says, like an asshole, and he drops his head down and away. Then he goes quiet. Quiet as the room, quiet enough for Ryuji to hear his own hopes and expectations divebombing straight into the ground. For a moment, the only sound is the distant buzz of the projector behind them.

Ryuji laughs in pure disbelief. “What kinda shit is this?”

“What?”

“I’m sayin’ I like you back and you just shut me down? When you’re the one who started it?”

Kanji can’t even keep his eyes on Ryuji, trying to look everywhere else but at him. “Dunno what you’re talkin’ about, Senpai.” 

“Dude, you’re over here always… I don’t know! Pining and crap! And followin’ me around! Makin’ those stupid, cute faces!” See, he’s even doing it _right now_ , his eyebrows shot up in wild surprise. “Don’t act like I’m crazy when you couldn’t be more obvious.”

“O-Obvious?!”

“Yeah, man! Woulda been more subtle if you had ‘I LOVE YOU SENPAI!’ tattooed on your damn face! Shit… you’re doin’ all these… these dumb, charming things and you can’t believe I ended up liking you? What else was I supposed to do, huh?”

Kanji looks at him again, but now the surprise on his face is melting into some pity-this-poor-dumbass look and he actually _sighs_.

“Senpai, you… just don’t worry about it. You don’t have to do anything ‘cause of me. Seriously. You’re awesome and I like you… like bein’ around you, but you don’t have to, uh. Force yourself, or make it into a big deal.” _What?_ The fuck is he saying? “Whatever, it’s happened before. Y’know, where I’m… interested, but it doesn’t have to mean nothin’. S’just awkward when you’re teammates and no one can leave it the hell alone…” 

Ryuji throws his hands up. “Who cares about that shit! Who cares! This is you and me!”

“Huh? I care, shithead!”

“What happened to, ‘Oh, I’m a man! I like what I like!’ What was that all about? Just some bullshit? Thought you said you weren’t a liar!”

“It ain’t bullshit,” Kanji rumbles, “I just—if you—Senpai, just drop it.”

This has gone so off the rails, it’s not even funny. Ryuji walked in here just minutes ago with hearts in his eyes and a tickle in his dick and now he’s so spitting mad he could fistfight Kanji down the aisle. Can’t even hide it, with the hunch of his shoulders tensing into a bend so tight that it wants to snap. But he’s not mad because he got shot down. 

He’s mad because Kanji thinks he has to lie. 

He’s mad because Kanji is so stupidly honest in everything he does, mad because now for this one thing, he feels like can’t be. Kanji is lying, like he’s scared. And Ryuji knows because he was a liar, too. Used to lie to himself, used to be afraid, until he met the friends that changed everything for him. Kanji went through the same exact thing, even said it himself that he learned better than that. His friends had helped him out, and now so will Ryuji. 

He takes a deep breath and makes himself relax, loosening his posture. He looks down at Kanji, who’s still on guard, edged back in his seat.

“I’m not gonna drop it. I’m pickin’ it up and running with it.”

“Senpai—”

“And if that’s crazy then fine, this whole place has been nothing but crazy shit! And I’m embracin’ it.” 

Kanji makes a face. “What’re you even talkin’ about?” 

“I don’t know, I don’t really get it myself. I kinda just like you,” Ryuji says, stepping forward slowly, like he’s in a daze. “I kinda wanna kiss you.”

“Stop messin’ around,” Kanji barks out, but he hasn’t moved away. That must be a sign, like maybe this is okay, like Ryuji can just… go for it. So he reaches out for Kanji’s face, slips a hand by his ear until Ryuji’s cradling his neck and feels a shiver underneath his fingers. “C’mon, man. Shit.”

A second hand now, around his cheek, so he can’t let go.

“Oh, shit.”

Tips his head up and forward.

“Uh. Uhhhh.” The whites of Kanji’s eyes are growing huge, but his voice is shrinking to the barest whisper. “Is this happening?”

Ryuji leans in.

The moment they go face to face, the bullshit’s all gone. Kanji stops pretending he’s not turning to jelly, eyes fluttering closed just like a girl, lips parting with a low “Ah,” as Ryuji meets his mouth. But he's not a girl, nothing like a girl, with the way his big hands cradle Ryuji’s face and hold him close to kiss him back. They pull together and it drags Ryuji half into Kanji’s lap but they don’t stop, can’t stop kissing each other now that every dumb excuse is out of the way. It’s clumsy and it’s messy, and maybe it should be crazy but all Ryuji can think is _finally_ , this is what he was waiting for.

It’s all them, only them. It’s them feeding each other kiss after kiss like time itself stops existing. It’s them swapping spit and heat and air forever until Ryuji has to pull away or die. The tingle he’d felt before with Kanji is back, all around his mouth now as he gasps for breath. Kanji looks kissed out, too: eyes drooped heavy, cheeks flushed and warm, pants _real_ damn tight. Well. His pants are already pretty tight, and Ryuji knows because he’s kind of been looking, but not like this. It’s the most honest he’s been all day.

“Uhh, I,” Kanji blurts out. “Kinda got hard. Shut up.”

Ryuji huffs a laugh out against his face. “Tellin’ me to shut up. Wait ‘til I actually say somethin’.”

“What, you’re not gonna…?” Kanji looks amazed, shelving away the preemptive hurt on his face, like he was fully expecting Ryuji to say some total garbage. “That’s the thing, Senpai. Y’know. I like you like… like that.”

Ryuji sits in closer to make his point. “Same here, so stop lyin’ about it already.”

“Didn’t wanna bother you.”

“You’re not.”

“Didn’t wanna gross you out.”

“You’re not.”

“And Sarumi-chan looks bitchin’.” Kanji shoots that same look of awe towards Sarumi’s way, who’s getting a good eyeful of Ryuji straddling Kanji’s lap. “No one ever gave me anything like that before. I love it. Look at her! Badass _and_ cute—” 

“Okay, now you’re startin’ to bug me,” Ryuji says.

“—like you,” Kanji sneaks in.

Ryuji kisses Kanji again to shut him up, and that’s the only reason for it. No bullshit.

\-------

Ryuji books it over to Ann the moment he catches her in the hallway.

“Ann, _please_ , you gotta help me.” Ryuji motions Ann’s ear closer to his mouth so he can lower his voice to a whisper. “Where do you think I can find condoms here?”

“Oh my GOD!!”

\-------

The cinema is starting to destabilize, and with it, everything Ryuji has come to know.

Whatever force keeping them all here is slowly falling apart. The reels unwinding, the projector dimming bit by bit. The Velvet Room grows stronger for it, the attendants tell them, and with one last strong push through the films, they could finally carve out their exit home. It's what Ryuji and Kanji have been working towards all this time.

They’re gonna go back eventually – that’s the whole point. But who knows where they’ll be, or _who_ they’ll be, and if they don’t make the most of every moment they have together, they may not get a second chance.

So the more the cinema is disrupted, the harder they go at each other. Those little exploratory kisses quickly give way to hiked-up makeout sessions, crammed into whatever dark corner they can find, not stopping for anything, except for the last time they had lingered behind in the aisles, pushed into the seats from grinding thigh-to-thigh, mouths hot on skin and breaking apart only because someone came back looking for their stupid Evoker. At this pace, they might as well skip the fluff in the middle and just go all the way, Ryuji figures. It’s not the proper order for how something like this is supposed to go, but that’s really only for people who have the luxury of things like time, or patience, or high standards, which is why Ryuji is stripping himself butt-naked in the break room under Kanji’s complete attention. 

“We gotta make this count,” he says. “We each gotta put it in. Fair’s fair, dude.”

“Put it… in?” Kanji’s face is going even redder. “Both of us?”

“What, you don’t wanna?”

“No! N-No, wait, I mean yeah! I mean—you really want to?!”

“‘Course I do.” It’s more convincing once he gets his pants off because then there’s nothing stopping Kanji from ogling the semi pressing against his underwear. Ryuji resists the urge to cover himself up. Lame, like talking about sex for one whole millisecond gets him hard.

But Kanji’s wide eyes trained on his dick makes him even harder.

“…Me too,” Kanji finally admits. “I’ve been thinkin’ about it for a long time, and I didn’t know if we’d be able to do it, but… ain’t there, uh, things that we need…”

“Trust me, I came prepared. Stuff’s in my jacket.” Smuggled out in the pockets like a pro, like a good senpai who knows exactly what he’s doing, probably. Kanji looks impressed, at least. He nods thoughtfully, and then he walks over and closes the gap between them. His looming presence isn’t intimidating anymore, hasn’t been for a long time, but the context for this is very, very different.

“Okay,” Kanji says. “You’re older, so… you go first.”

Well—technically—oh, fuck it, Ryuji isn’t complaining. “C’mere,” he murmurs, and he draws Kanji in for a kiss, like they’ve done so many times now. Full and deep, the most passionate they’ve had yet, an easy outlet for the arousal that’s building up fast.

Kanji’s already got a hand up to Ryuji’s hair, roughly tangling his fingers into it as he tries to suck Ryuji’s face into the next dimension. It’s always just a matter of time before his hand ends up there. Kanji must really like it, pulling and playing with Ryuji’s hair like no one’s attached to the other end, leading Ryuji’s head wherever he wants it to go, because he makes these low and pleased noises deep in Ryuji’s mouth when he does and Ryuji is maybe starting to like it, too. His cock throbs as it nudges Kanji in the side, stretching out his fly, so it’s all Ryuji can do to pull down the band of his boxer briefs and get them out of the way.

Kanji notices and stops kissing him long enough to look. “ _Ryuji-senpai._ ”

“C’mon, c’mon, you too.” Ryuji reaches down and tugs at Kanji’s pants, still on him instead of on the floor, trying to refocus his attention there instead of fumbling around with Ryuji’s dick. Easier said than done, because there’s somebody else’s hand feeling up Ryuji’s cock for the first time and he wants it to keep going. A big hand, closed nice and tight, practically inviting him to fuck into it. “Kanji, shit. Hurry up. I can’t go out like this.”

“Sorry. Just wanted to. Never seen a dude hard before.” Then, like on impulse, Kanji adds, “You look so good.”

The praise goes straight to Ryuji’s head, and he smirks. “Yeah? What do you got?”

“You wanna. You wanna see?”

“Duh, man, c’mon.”

Kanji sits down to peel off his skin-tight pants and Ryuji joins him, dropping his bare ass down to the tacky theater carpet he’s about to lose his virginity on. He knows that when the dicks come out, shit gets real. He stares impatiently, the anticipation skyrocketing when Kanji struggles with the fabric still stuck around his ankles, until he yanks them off with his underwear following close behind.

Wow.

Ryuji really, really should’ve checked first to see what Kanji was packing before he suggested this. He’s _huge_ , holy shit, like a goddamn baby arm or something, and he’s hard as hell and leaving a sticky trail all along the crook of his hip. Ryuji can’t stop looking at it. Not just in the awe-inspiring sense of _yep, that’s a big ol’ dick_ but from the feeling it’s giving him inside, a strange mix of fear and arousal that’s churning in his belly.

He doesn’t even touch it. Just hovers his hands around it, like it’s the forbidden golden idol. “Are you freakin’ kidding me? This thing's for real?”

“What?” Kanji says, trying to close his legs. He’s acting all self-conscious, like he thinks he’s not good enough, like he hasn't been blessed by God’s hand itself.

Ryuji holds them open. “Dude, stop. It’s not a bad thing. I’m just sayin’. _Shit_. You’re a beast down there.”

“Shut the hell up, Senpai…”

“ _You_ shut up, man. You’re fine. ‘Course you’re fine, you’re big. Only problem is how it’s gonna. Uh.” He lets that idea sit in his mouth, wets his lips. Thank god he’s going first.

They kiss some more before Kanji decides he wants to lose the undershirt. Ryuji leaves him to his stripping and hunts for his tossed-away jacket instead, rifling through the pockets once he’s found it. He wasn’t kidding about coming prepared. The condoms were a lost cause, sure, but he did score some lube. Nothing great: some kind of herbal balm he’d found in a chest that’s apparently ultra special and for emergencies only, but what qualifies as an emergency more than this?

It goes on thick over his fingers, a warm sensation of relief spreading slowly through them to the rest of his hand. Sounds nice, considering what he’s about to do with it. “You ready, Kanji?”

“Yeah,” Kanji says. He’s spread out on his back, legs apart, cupping his balls up and out of the way. There’s his little asshole, tucked right underneath. 

“Hold on. Maybe… there. Put your legs up more. Yeah, hold ‘em up.” 

That bares him wide, shows him off. Now there’s nothing in the way between Ryuji’s fingers and Kanji’s ass, sliding slick under his taint to cautiously rub him until he shivers, until they can curl in, push in, fight past the tight ring of muscle into that warm, snug space Ryuji really wants. 

And when Ryuji starts moving his fingers, Kanji takes it like a champ. He doesn’t jump, or yell, or haul up and punch Ryuji’s lights out. He’s too busy rolling his head back, groaning softly to himself, legs still held up high. “Oh. Oooh.”

“How’s that?”

“Uh—good. Shit, s’good.”

Just good? Looks like it feels better than that, if Kanji’s dick is any indication – Ryuji watches it flex hard between his thighs, throbbing away all by itself with just the messy movement of his fingers. Like Kanji is already feeling it from his ass alone. Uh. Can’t be – Ryuji’s not doing anything special. It’s just his fingers thrusting to a point, a poor man’s substitute for the real thing, all prep to help Kanji get through this until it’s his turn to fuck, but Kanji is squeezing down with a moan and ignoring his own erection like he forgot he even had one. Maybe he needs a little reminder. 

Ryuji wrangles Kanji’s dick out, a thick brand of heat in his hand, and strokes it with purpose because when you’re fingering someone in the ass, it’s the kind thing to do. And it’s easy, isn’t it? Like jacking off but backwards, snapping his wrist in a practiced rhythm, keeping pressure where he knows it’d feel the best. He gets a good ten seconds in, tops, before Kanji suddenly hitches forward and comes all over his hand.

“Dude! Really?” Ryuji lets go and wiggles his fingers through the dribbles of come laced on them. “I didn’t even do anything.”

Kanji finishes huffing the air out of his nostrils before he stares Ryuji down accusingly. “You were touchin’ me.”

“Well—yeah?”

“So ‘course I’m gonna come! Damn!” Kanji shuts his eyes. “I can’t handle both. Touchin’ the front and the back. ’Specially with the… the back.”

So it really was the. “Huh.” The ass thing. “It’s that good?” Ryuji zeroes back in on it, one hand nudging a finger pad in the middle of its pout while the other gives his own cock a nice squeeze. “Havin’ something up here?”

“It’s like… imagine an eject button. When you’re pressin’ on it, it’s just gonna come out. Can’t help it. My body just… d-does it…” Kind of like right now, his arms swinging over his face, his ass fidgeting over Ryuji’s hand. “Tch, shit! I dunno! It’s your fingers! Stop doin’ crap with your fingers!”

“You mean you want somethin’ else?”

“Dumb bastard.”

But when Kanji opens his eyes again, they’re on Ryuji’s dick before anything else. Ryuji knows Kanji ain't subtle but, come _on_. “‘Cause I’m ready, man. I’ll give it to you.”

“Mmm,” Kanji sighs as Ryuji leans over him, between him, guiding his legs back. He drops his hips, letting his dick line up straight as an arrow to Kanji’s hole. They rub together when he angles forward, getting his head greased-up and slick with his insistent, instinctive pressing, making it even messier from how bad he’s leaking. Fuck, it’s a straight shot. One more good push, just one more inch, and he’ll be in.

He presses harder. “Okay? Is it okay? Can I do it?”

“Yeah,” Kanji breathes. 

“Don’t have a condom,” Ryuji says at the best time, which is half a second away from being too late.

“S’okay.”

So Ryuji lets his weight carry him forward and all at once he realizes he’s a genius, that this is the best idea he’s ever had, because the hot, tight clutch of Kanji’s ass slipping bit by bit down his dick is blowing his mind. He’s pushing in, pushing deep, knows he’s gonna bottom out whether Kanji likes it or not, but Kanji fucking _does_ , groaning and panting and letting Ryuji in as much as he can, letting Ryuji loom over him with hands spaced wide. His own legs spread out too, wide as Kanji’s, so they can press together into a perfect fit.

When Ryuji thrusts the rest of his way in, ‘genius’ doesn’t even cut it. He’s the smartest motherfucker that’s ever lived.

And Kanji is strong, so there’s no holding back. Ryuji can fuck him however he wants, full strength, full speed, because he knows Kanji can take it. He’s trying to start out slow here, for Kanji’s sake, and he’s got just enough control left to figure out an angle Kanji likes before he goes for it.

Kanji likes every angle Ryuji gives him: reared back straight; leaned down flat, kissing Kanji to eat up the moans he makes. Kanji pumps his hips up in response and _oh_ , there, that angle hits the right spot for Ryuji too, so he speeds up. Shit. He’s not doing so good at the “slow and steady” thing. If he’s not careful, he’ll bust inside Kanji in no time flat.

Wait, inside? Uh oh. Probably should’ve talked about this beforehand.

“Kanji.” He’s not paying attention, so Ryuji tries again louder. “Kanji. I might come already.”

Kanji stops pinching his eyes shut and opens them, barely focused from his body bouncing around. “Huhnn.”

“So it’s okay? I don’t gotta pull out?”

“Uh, uh, I dunno,” Kanji says, mind far, far away, like his brain’s melted out of his ears and pooled down onto the floor. 

“‘Cause if I keep goin’ like this, I’ll come in you for real.”

“I, I dunno.” Kanji twists his face up and groans, this low and desperate noise that jumps right to Ryuji’s dick. “Shit, _Ryuji-senpai!_ ”

Ryuji just stops talking because this conversation is going nowhere, because his brand new focus is all about making Kanji sound like that again. He snaps his hips faster and Kanji cries out, knocking his head back. He’s one step past obscene with how he twists with his heavy cock slapping against his belly, how he fires like a quick trigger because he’s coming untouched, shooting thin stripes across his stomach.

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” Ryuji groans. Whatever muscles are down there are all going nuts. They’re trembling and twitching and sucking him in, tiny irresistible movements that draw him in deeper. It’s over almost as fast as it starts, but the damage is done. There’s no way he can stop now.

Kanji is still squirming underneath him, sloppily pulling at his dick and trying to milk out one last shot, but everything else about him’s gone relaxed and smooth, so yielding, his ass softened to a fuck-slack hole Ryuji can lose himself in. His head’s clouding up already.

“I’m almost there, Kanji. Don’t move, don’t move!” Ryuji says, thrusting fast as he wants, and then he braces himself on Kanji’s solid thighs and tips over the edge with a shudder, breathing hard through his orgasm, from how fucking good it feels to let go in something hotter than the rest of him. When he’s all spent, he slumps back and slurps out of Kanji’s ass.

Kanji dazedly wipes at the come that leaks out of it. “Whoa…”

“Hah… Kanji, that was good…” Kanji is laid out loose, like he got absolutely steamrolled by cock, and Ryuji gives him an encouraging rub on his thighs. “You liked it?”

“Mm, yeah…”

He gives Kanji’s softening dick a pinch. “Man, you didn’t even make it to the best part.” Well, that whole thing was supposed to go right up his ass, so he’s pretty relieved. And maybe a little disappointed. 

Disrelieved? Huh.

“Nah... I’ll be good,” Kanji says, still catching his breath. “Just give me a minute.”

Kanji rises up, finding Ryuji’s mouth and they’re kissing again, sloppier and lazier than before, and Kanji breathes out a little sigh for it. Oh, _Kanji_ thinks he feels good? Because Ryuji feels like a fucking champ on the top of the world. He got first dibs and now look at him, freshly devirginized and cocksure, riding the wave of making someone come on his dick, and this is like their victory makeout session, pan out, roll credits.

They kiss until Ryuji’s lips feel fat and slick, borderline numb, and he slows down, sated. But Kanji kisses him longer, and deeper, and closer, until Ryuji is leaned back onto his elbows and Kanji is half on top of him, his erection swollen back up and pressing into Ryuji’s thigh.

“Uh.” Ryuji swallows hard, his throat bobbing around Kanji’s tongue. “You still wanna go?”

“Yeah,” Kanji breathes under his ear. “My turn.”

“Oh,” Ryuji says. “ _Oh,_ ” because Kanji is inching him flat to the floor, sucking at his neck, and this shit is happening. All of his bravado deflates. He’s literally gonna bend over and take it. 

He assumes the position: knees bent, chest down, ass up. This way, he won’t even see it coming.

Behind him, Kanji cracks the balm back open. “Nice pose there, Senpai.”

“Shut up. Just put ‘em up there.”

Okay, so Ryuji makes one peek back. Kanji is frowning down at Ryuji’s ass like it’s a puzzle. “How’d you do it?”

“There’s no magic to it,” Ryuji says. “Seriously, put ‘em in.”

“Okay, then… lemme know if it hurts,” Kanji says. He pokes his lubed-up finger in and Ryuji almost yells like a bitch.

Now that he’s been refreshed with post-nut clarity, what the fuck was he even thinking? Taking it up the ass? He’s never had anything up there before. It’s physically fucking impossible, even though Kanji’s already easing a second finger into him. There’s a pain to each stretch, a burn to his muscle that’s soothed over almost as quick as it happens to a dull echo. What’s left behind is only smooth warmth, a feel-good lie that’s telling his body it can totally handle this.

After finger number three, Kanji has the sheer balls to ask him, “So, how many is good? One more?”

“I’m gonna die,” Ryuji mumbles, because he’s starting to feel strangely hot and loose, the way his muscles feel when they’re rubbed out hard after a run, except it’s _up there_. And the curl in his belly is growing so much worse, with the way Kanji’s fingers press inside of him like there’s an itch only Kanji can scratch. He’s fearless about getting his fingers where they need to go, concentrated on the task at hand and on Ryuji’s face to make sure he’s doing okay. Is he doing okay? He doesn’t even know.

“…You okay?” Kanji even says.

“Yeah?” 

“Should I keep goin’? ‘Cause I can stop, but… but I wanna make you feel good.”

“Yeah.” Yeah, he’s probably okay. Flaccid and with three thick fingers plugged deep in his ass, but okay. It helps that even with his big-ass ape hands Kanji is still so gentle, handling Ryuji with the greatest of care, from the careful pull of his fingers out of Ryuji’s ass to the incredible self-restraint he shows when he presses his cock against it. It feels huge. Massive. It’s a dick, not a battering ram, but at this point it might as well be one.

Kanji spreads him wider and says, “I’m—I’m gonna put it in.”

And he’s so slow, so patient, that it’s almost like torture; he guides the head of his cock inside at a glacial pace and it’s barely a relief when Ryuji finally slips over the ridge and tightens up behind it. Kanji’s cock is ridiculous. The balm’s got him warmed up and numbed out, but Ryuji swears he can still feel it all down to the fattest vein. Kanji doesn’t move any faster now, either, just slowly, slowly pushes himself in until it drives Ryuji insane. He tries to get a good look at Kanji’s dick just to make sure that, you know, there's actually an end to the thing and it’s not just growing longer by the second.

“Oh godddddd,” Ryuji groans. “Is it in? Is it?!”

“A-Almost. Kinda.” Kanji’s face is flushing up fast, a little sweat beading up at the top, looking near wrecked like he’s been plowing Ryuji’s ass for hours instead of barely packing himself inside. Shit, what’s gonna happen to him once Kanji finally makes it in and starts going to town? “Hey, stop squeezing me! Ow, damnit! That hurts!”

“You’re hurtin’ ME!!”

“Shit. Shit, okay! Hold on.” 

Kanji pulls back – god, that feels weird too, a sensation Ryuji doesn’t even want to describe – until he’s nearly all the way out. He grabs for the balm and Ryuji can feel him slick more over everything he can reach. “You gotta relax, Senpai, seriously. If you do that then it feels pretty good.”

“I’m! TRYING!” Ryuji says, but he knows what the bigger problem is. “Just go for it! Stop dragging it out. Rip the bandaid off.”

“Uh, okay,” Kanji says. When he starts nudging forward, he moves easier this time, helped by the extra slip. “That better?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I think so.”

“You think I can go in more? Can it fit?”

Ryuji moves his head around, half a shake and half a nod. Like he knows the magic dick-to-ass ratio. “Maybe?”

“Hmmmh. Lemme try.” Kanji steadies his hands around the small of Ryuji’s back, and then, with a thick groan, his hips meet Ryuji’s ass in one smooth thrust.

Ryuji’s never made the sound that comes out of his mouth before.

He can’t even talk. He can barely even _breathe_ , like all of his insides got replaced by cock and there’s no more room left for anything else. He scrabbles his hands against the carpet and tries to get a grip, tries to hold on tight, the only thing he can do in the face of the overwhelming fullness deep inside of him.

“ _Oh_ ,” Kanji moans, his fingers grabbing just as hard onto Ryuji’s skin, holding on for dear life. He leans forward and Ryuji feels the curve of Kanji’s stomach press against his tailbone, feels Kanji’s cock shift inside him like a counterweight and it’s so, so _much_.

“You're tight, you're tight, you're tight,” Kanji chants in a whisper, starting to move, to fuck him deep. “Senpai, you. You feel so _good_. You too? You feel good?”

Ryuji agrees in something between a gasp and a whine, because his words stopped working when that big cock slid into him. No, nothing works anymore – his brain is checking out, all his higher functioning replaced by the thick slap of their bodies, the steady rhythm of their sex, until all that’s left is Kanji, Kanji around him, Kanji inside him. Kanji, _Kanji_ —

“Kanji,” he sighs, and Kanji makes a sigh back like he just loves the sound of his name in Ryuji’s mouth. His hold on Ryuji’s hips is even stronger now, leverage for him to use while he drives in with determination, rearing Ryuji back onto his cock with ease. Kanji drapes over him more and more, lost in the connection between them, and Ryuji is lost in the pressure it builds within him, growing big and powerful, near overwhelming. 

Right when it’s too much, Kanji’s hip stutter out. “I’m gonna come,” he says, seconds before he does, deep into Ryuji’s body.

Ryuji can feel everything. The final pulses of the cock he’s clenched around. The warmth slowly seeping through his gut. The hot shudders of breath at his neck when Kanji nuzzles his face against it, his hands spanning down Ryuji’s stomach until they fumble over his dick and oh goddamn, he’s hard, he’s _hard_.

“Hey, Senpai,” Kanji pants in Ryuji’s ear, “can I do it again? Can I? Lemme do it again.”

He does.

\-------

Kanji pushes the break room door shut behind him. “Made it!”

In Ryuji’s eyes, he looks like a yankee angel of mercy. He gazes up at Kanji with pure gratitude. “Oh man, you’re the freakin’ best.”

Kanji got mostly dressed to run out to the concession stand, but considering the situation, Ryuji didn’t even bother putting any of his clothes back on. He’s got the rest of the balm slathered on and now he’s intimately acquainted with his new best friend, a fistful of crushed ice packed in a sock.

“You sure you’re okay…?”

“Yeah, I’m…” Ryuji stretches out his legs, winces, then moves them back. “I’m gonna be fine. This is nothing.” And if he isn’t then Ann’s got her healing magic, but he might be taking his life into his own hands asking for that favor.

“Damn, Senpai, you’re tough.” Satisfied, Kanji goes back to lying next to him, slotting his head under Ryuji’s chin and plopping it down on his chest while he curls up close. It’s suspiciously close to shameless cuddling and Ryuji is never going to get over this.

For a long time, they lie there in shared silence. It’s the most quiet they've ever been together, or probably ever. But it's not strange. It's safe and companionable, just plain easy to be this tangled up in each other, existing with each other in a moment outside of time and space.

When Kanji makes a small hum, Ryuji looks down to find that Kanji is already staring back up at him. “Y’think we’ll remember we got laid?”

“I dunno. The way Margaret was talkin’, we might forget everything.”

“I bet I’ll remember you”, Kanji says. “Even just a bit. Then I’ll be able to find you.”

“What, you’re really gonna come lookin’ for me?”

“Yeah.”

Ryuji can’t help it; he cracks up in Kanji’s face and he gets a scowl right back. “You don't even know where I live!”

“Uh, you’re from Tokyo, jackass,” Kanji says, as if _that_ narrows it down.

“Okay okay, lemme break it down for you.” Ryuji clears his throat and gets to work. “So you’re in Shibuya, and you start at Buchiko—you heard of Buchiko, right? The dog statue? Oh, duh, it’s you here, ‘course you have. So you start at Buchiko, then you take the first stairs down into the station. That’s exit eight, but you want to find five and six for the Fukutoshin line. Take that for two stops north. You know you’re at the right stop ‘cause the first thing you’ll see at the exit is this stupid bougie doughnut shop. Oh wait, that opened up last year. Well, it’s either a doughnut place or a yakitori place, or somethin’ like that. Then you make a left and go down one block…” Ryuji stops there, because Kanji looks like he stopped processing this at the word ‘Buchiko’. He shuts his eyes and sighs. “Man, I gotta write this out for you. How’re you gonna remember all this stuff?”

“Doesn’t matter. YOU just remember I’m comin’.”

“Okay… guess I gotta wait for you, then.”

When Ryuji cracks one eye open, Kanji is staring him down with a dead serious look. He raises his big fist up to Ryuji’s face, and then up comes his little pinky. 

“You promise?”

Ryuji hooks onto it with his own and shakes until he puts the smile back onto Kanji’s face.

“Promise.”


End file.
